


Amatis

by Genius_626



Series: Lucelyn [4]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-20 02:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3632628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genius_626/pseuds/Genius_626
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke mourns Amatis on her birthday, the first after her death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amatis

With the history both Luke and Jocelyn had with the Invisible World and tragedy, there were always a few painful reminders of the past that just popped up every now and then. And as happy as they were at present, some pain was always meant to linger, though it could dull with time.

But time sometimes moved slowly, even for Luke.

Luke had always remembered his sister’s birthday. He wasn’t one to celebrate birthdays nowadays --maybe except for Clary’s -- but it was a date he would always remember. The worst thing about remembering was that he didn’t register the day's significance until that very moment he saw the numbers. Before, he’d have had a quiet moment, maybe staring at the calendar and remembering the good times, while also trying to stave off the guilt he had for their losing touch -- regardless of his lack of control over the situation -- as well as the anger he had for her disgust of what he was.

But now, all the memories he could see were of her death. All he could imagine was her last moment and the look in her eyes as she fell. All he could do when he checked his phone for the time and found the date instead was try not to remember.

He hadn't much talked about his sister yet, or about his grief over her passing, not to anyone. Even at the small funeral they’d had for all those lost in the war, he hadn’t said anything but a brief, respectful eulogy. Jocelyn had worried then. She had cried for her son, on more then one occassion, and she hadn’t even known him. Luke had urged her to talk about it, and to let go, and to mourn, but Jocelyn had yet to find him in a place where he needed that same kind of treatment.

Today, she realized, was that time.

Her husband had retreated back to their bedroom after a silent breakfast on his end. Once he’d left, Clary had given her mother a concerned look, Jocelyn wearing one of her own.

“Is everything ok?” Clary asked quietly.

Jocelyn turned to her daughter and nodded, trying to be reassuring. “It’s about Amatis.”

Clary nodded, knowing that she could do little to help, although she wished there was something she could do. Jocelyn got up, rested a hand on Clary’s shoulder in a wordless comfort, but also a signal that she might not return shortly, and followed Luke’s path back to their bedroom.

He’d gone back to bed, his face buried in a pillow, a sheet lazily strewn across half his body. Jocelyn closed the door behind her and made her way up to him. He gave no indication that he’d heard her come in, but didn’t object when she’d climbed into bed and started combing her fingers through his hair. She would do this to get him to relax; far too often, there was a permanent crease in his brow. They were like that for a few minutes before Luke dragged himself away from the pillow and hugged his wife, his arms tightly wound around her middle and his face in her side, his breathing slightly hitched.

“I need to get to work.” He grumbled eventually, silent tears streaming down his face.

“You can take another hour to yourself. Or the whole day.” Jocelyn replied, her voice calm. Luke worked hard, too hard sometimes, and it bothered her when he didn’t think about himself at times. Though while he wasn't pack leader anymore or on the council and had more time for himself, that time was often devoted to working to improve the house, maintaining the bookstore, and of course taking care of his family.

He’d always been selfless, and some of her earlier memories of when they were Shadowhunters still came to her now. Sometimes when Luke wasn’t doing as well in class, he would train through sleepless nights to get techniques right. She remembers now that he had had his moodier days when she had been nothing but deliriously happy with Valentine, and he would train more, through his turmoil, to distract himself.

“Today is Amatis’ birthday.” Luke said, sounding very tired. He tilted his head to look up at her, his eyes red and blearing. “I don’t know why I’m reacting like this.”

“You’re still mourning. It hasn’t even been a year.” Jocelyn said. “You’re always dealing with my emotions, you don’t really have a lot of space for your own.”

Luke tightened his arms around his wife, taking a long moment before continuing. “We lost so much time, Amatis and I. I feel like…like we weren’t allowed to get to know each other again. I wanted to apologize to her. I didn’t get to say goodbye. Not the first or the last time.”

Jocelyn tugged at his arm, wanting to see his face and bring him into a proper embrace. He moved up her body and she rested his head in the crook of her shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.

“She still loved you, she never stopped. She wouldn’t have helped you in Alicante if she hadn’t.” Jocelyn said.

Luke gave a choked breath before replying. “Clary was very sick.”

“And she knew you loved me, didn’t she? She knew you must have loved my daughter." Jocelyn continued, her fingers still playing at the back of his neck. "After…after you told me you loved me for the first time, she scolded me. Told me she was glad you were staying, that she’d be able to be with you again. That'd you'd have time to get over me. She always knew, didn't she?"

Jocelyn could feel Luke taking deeper breaths, trying to steady himself again. He held himself up on his elbows after a few moments, and his reddened eyes flicked up to hers. 

"She was the only person I told about my feelings for you." He said. "But even before then, she'd known. She raised me, I bet she knew before I did." He gave a small smile, remembering something that Jocelyn couldn't have, but she was happy to see that promise of happiness somewhere on his face. 

"Clary's the only other person I ever told." Luke said, almost under his breath.

"About your feelings for me?" Jocelyn pressed, curious now. 

"Valentine had told her what he suspected of our relationship, which she had initially taken for jealousy." He said. "But then she asked me about it, and scolded me for not telling you, because she was sure you felt the same way."

Jocelyn was taken by surprise by that and didn't reply right away. "Really?"

He nodded, resting his head back onto her shoulder. "I didn't believe her."

"You should have."

"Well, I know that now."

Jocelyn could hear the familiar humorous gruff in his voice and smiled, reveling in her small success in slowly beinging him back to himself.

"What do you need?" She asked after a few quiet moments. "What can I do to make you feel better?"

"You're already helping." He said, turning his head so that he could talk softly into her ear. "And I may just need more time. But I don't think I'll ever truly be over this...I know I'm not responsible for her death...but there is a part of me that will never let it go."

"I understand." Jocelyn said quietly, tilting her gaze to look him in the eye. He looked tired, but better then he had earlier that morning at least. 

"That last moment that I saw her..." Luke began, though he trailed off, trying to find the words.

"You don't have to tell me." Jocelyn said, but he persisted.

"I want to tell you, because it stays with me in the back of my mind everywhere I go, no matter what I do. We saw each other, and in her last moment, I saw everything she'd ever have to say to me. In one glance, I knew bow guilty she felt, how mich heartbreak she'd suffered, how lost she'd been those years living alone in Alicante. And still, after everything, she loved me."

Jocelyn held him tighter. "And now she's at rest."

"In a better place, I can only hope." Luke mumbled into her neck. They stayed like taht until Luke was asleep again, and later, the family went out to dinner, in honor of a fallen sister, and in celebration that they had this life. Time would go on, and maybe the pain would never fade, but for Luke, his gratefullness would only continue to grow. Love would overshadow every great pain. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I got really sapping at the end there o.o ah well, it fit the fic.


End file.
